Brightly Woven (is our threads)
by Our Brightest Stars
Summary: A look into what might have happened if Itachi was allowed to advocate for more than just his brother being spared and the political ramifications of that. A closer look at clan relations and what it means to be Family. Featuring: over 20 small children, 3 Doing-Their-Best adults, 2 non-clan teammates, and 1 Sweet Shop. Gen. Recursive Dreaming of Sunshine. Cuddles & Food abound.
1. Hallow Victory

Sitting in a traditional seiza, Akari kept her head respectfully bowed, listening to the Council argue loudly around her. Argue about just how the remnants of her clan should be divided amongst themselves, like trophies or currencies to remain pacified that no one of them gained more of a profit out of this than the others. She swallowed hard and tried not to cry, what had originally been something of a inquisition or a trial was now just an auction.

The whole mood, no, the _very air itself_ was like a thick black mist threatening to engulf her.

So many of her people died, but yet this was how their children were treated? Fought over? Their homes being heatedly debated about, being dismantled and destroyed, so the land could be sold off or made into crop fields? _Did their grief mean nothing to these people?_

Akari was scared, and angry, and disgusted, and just…just so very sad.

But.

But, there was no one else.

There was no one else — _save for Uncle Teyaki, who was hospitalized_ — so she was here, and no matter what, Akari would always be on the side of family.

_(although, the memory of Teyaki's fierce expression as he laid on the bed, frailty seemingly disappeared, declaring that he would go and give that "selfish, rotten pack of vultures" a piece of his mind… it gave her strength; he could leave this to her, she had promised that it would be okay!)_

She had promised, so… Squaring up her shoulders, heart beating rapidly, Akari rose her head and asked in a quiet but firm tone, "What do you mean by that, Honorable Elder Danzo-sama?"

There was a pause, his eyes murky and immeasurable depths, cold and sharp like a kunai. His voice was just was steely. "I mean, _Akado-san_, that there is currently no place suitable to take in twenty-three orphans. I have been told all I need to know, and surely you can see the only solution to this?"

Akari grimaced at her paternal surname, but did her best to continue anyway, "As far as I am concerned, the only solution left is for family to stay with family. My mother was an Uchiha, and my registry paperwork _seemed_ to keep being misplaced these past few years. There is only so many of us left, the rest had been_ brutally murdered_ within these very walls, surely you can see the only solace we can find is in those who share our pain, Honorable Elder?"

She could hear the rest of the Council shift uneasily, felt more than a few gazes trained on her, both piting and speculative and not. Some murmured quietly amongst themselves or traded significant glances, eyebrows raised. Ultimately though, none interfered and instead elected to watch. Danzo, however, wasn't having any of it.

"Do you properly understand your position?" He purred, not twitching or even grimacing at the thinly veiled challenge. He already consider the matter finished and found the further argument tedious, because there was only one way this would end normally in a battle of attrition between him and her. Between a shinobi elder who lived through three wars and plotted and schemed all the while… and a civilian who up until this very moment had only ever been peripherally involved in anything of significance. It was clear how he viewed her and what he thought of the futile attempt. "As a civilian, you hardly have any say in the matters of shinobi and their Clans. You enjoy the privileges given to you, have only known peace, and think it right to complain? You weren't even in the Village when the Massacre happened, were you? And in any case, do you even have any proof?"

Akari clenched her hands tightly into fists, her frame as taut as bowstring as she resisted the urge to flinch. "Proof?" She repeated faintly, at a loss. Eyes twisting around the edges in wary curiosity. _Proof of what?_

He smiled. It was a thin, humorless thing, reminiscent of a spider's leg slowly easing into place on his wrinkled lips. It's sole purpose was to mock. "That's right, proof. I could not very well put any credence into the words of a child, let alone one who doesn't know the ways of ninja, if they had nothing to proven themselves with. Uchiha are known for one thing, and surely as one of them, you would share that very trait? So, where is it? Show us right now."

However, Danzo knew, as well as Akari did, that she could do no such thing on demand. That even if she did awaken it once or twice subsciously in severe times of stress, as a non-trained civilian she was hardly able to awaken it consciously on demand. Much less right that moment.

"Proof of the Sharingan —" The noirette attempted to explain, only to be cut off.

"That's right, proof. Proof!" The older man's gaze bored unrelentingly down upon Akari, making her feel smaller than an ant.

She thought of fire and smoke and the air burning with malevolence so much stronger and unbearable than this… But could not for the life of her bring back the feeling of burning in her eyes. Could not reawaken the treasured doujutsu of her diminished clan. Images of falling beams that used to make up the floor and walls and roof of her home. Of blood from her half-dead mother shielding her little sister from being impaled and choking on her own screams. Eight years ago, forever sealed away in terror, lurking in her mind's eye.

She thinks of finding her dead mother in the bathroom, bloody water splashed across the tiled floor and muddled pink-ish water still overflowing from the sides of the tub. The water from the still running faucet long gone cold. Her infant sister crying from hunger in her crib the next room over. Three years ago, just as shocking today with the scene staining her memories and dreams even still.

"No proof?" She heard the damnable man ask, as if from very far away through the ringing in her ears, Akari's senses almost muted from the strain of trying.

_(long dark hair whirling and spinning in the streaming water, flying and flowing like the fan that marked a target on her people's backs, and just as dead)_

She feels like she's almost there, almost as numb and eerily calm as those moments in time, almost as terrified and angry, but she hears him say, "Then I think we are done here."

_What should I do? I promised, so what should I do…?_

_I can't… I can't think of what to say._

Akari promised from the bottom of her heart, but her mind is empty of all thoughts, just the dull all-consuming fear of failure and the burn of tears in her eyes. The world seemed to shine like watercolor through her fractured kaleidoscope vision, and her cheeks are wet. She's never felt failure more acutely than she does now; never felt more ashamed.

Her head feels too hot and too congested and far, far too empty as the farce of a meeting sears itself into her heart.

There's another voice, quiet and dangerous, and the cloying scent of pipesmoke. _Surely, it hadn't been that strong before this raspy gravelly voice of smoker brought attention to it_, Akari thought faintly. It seemed to give the figurative black mist strangling the room a third dimension to it, something almost tangible.

Somehow, someway, she had nearly forgotten about the god in the room, the highly touted Professor and third Hokage — _which, that in itself is rather terrifying_. A hand covered in liver spots ominously taps out the ash in the wooden pipe into a glass ashtray, "Are you satisfied now, Danzo?"

"Hiruzen —"

"**Hokage**," came the sharp correction, and suddenly Akari doesn't thinks she will ever forget about his existence again. Could never forget how the embodiment of unadulterated power decided to make itself known and how the suffocating feeling of being held under apathetic scrutiny is now so much worse than it was before. The Intent is not even directed her way, but she feels herself crumble in on herself from the fear. "And we have done enough, I think. _Uchiha_-san is right, family must stay with family. We have orphanages run by only a handful of people, and classrooms full of child handled by one instructor; I believe three adults can handle twenty-four children."

"...Twenty-four?" Someone, not one of the Elders, manages to ask. Enviably, their voice does not quiver.

"It stands to reason, if Uchiha-san here is a part of the Clan, so, too, would be her sisters, right?" It wasn't a question, despite it being posed as one. Akari understands, knows the condition being presented in front of her. No more ambiguity, however much it had served her before. She was being pinned with the responsibilities and expectations and sufferings that would come with the name this time... And so, too, now, would her sisters. "I will sign the paperwork myself, so there will be no more _misunderstandings_. Everyone is dismissed, it's late."

The Sandaime is the first to leave, and he discreetly brushes her shoulder on the way by. It wasn't the same as a comforting pat on the shoulder or some such, but it stirred her from being deathly-still and the chill slowly thaws, alarmed crystal-clarity melting away.

Akari had a headache and felt empty, like she could sleep for days and still not fill the yawning-chasm of exhaustion.

But it was done, somehow, and she had kept her promise.

* * *

Hina Akado — _or rather, Uchiha now, she supposed_ — felt helpless sitting in the hard wooden chair next to Uncle Teyaki's hospital bed. It was the morning following the so-called meeting, more a trial, about the fate the Uchiha survivors, and the Akado Sisters involvement. Big Sister Akari had claimed that the matter had been settled, and that for better or worse, all the Uchiha would remain together in the District.

But Hina wasn't stupid, for all that she was fifteen, she knew that what that really meant was that the Uchiha wouldn't be getting any help and that she would have to be making a lot of sacrifices for the foreseeable future… And she would likely be grounded in the Village, maybe even have to retire from her post of chunin.

...At least she wasn't court-martialed or something, that would have definitely rankled on her worn nerves, but it was probably only done with the understanding that no more line-skirting would be committed anymore.

_(because, it didn't matter that the Akado sisters did nothing wrong, it was a matter of principle and loss of face; and that even though they would never admit to anything, there had been unjust discrimination and dealings being committed against the Uchiha Clan… constant stonewalling in the months leading up to the Massacre, innumerable cases of misfiling any and all mission requests for outside of the Village... all civilian Uchiha and shinobi alike having not been able to leave the outer walls for one reason or another, being rerouted for other in-village missions or giving excuses for why their mission request was being postponed…_

**_stonewalled_**

_she had been asking around, once, and all the little complaints and resigned answers had just kept piling up one after another, were pointing towards a dreadful conclusion that Hina had been studiously avoiding for most of her life; the idea that maybe the Village wasn't necessarily on her side or looking after her best interests…_

_...even worse, they probably didn't even think that they did anything wrong and were completely justified...)_

"It's all right, Hina," Akari murmured, patting her sibling's hand reassuringly, a tired smile being summoned from somewhere deep within. "It's over now. No matter what happens or what they try to do, as long as we continue to live our lives and our cousins grow up to be happy, we win. We'll endure this, somehow, together."

Hina's lip trembled, and she just felt so frustrated. On some level, she truly appreciated what the older girl was trying to do, was grateful for the comforting, but just how could she brush everything aside? It wasn't fair! It just… It wasn't fair, wasn't right.

It wasn't what her teachers taught in school.

It wasn't fellow comrades supporting or caring for one another in times of weakness.

It wasn't any of the core values of the Will of Fire that all her superiors use to preach at the top of their lungs.

It was discrimination and shady politics, plain and simple.

Except, there was nothing that could be done about such things, only stubborn endurance and hope that the world wouldn't be ripped out from under their feet again.

Because even though the massacre was attributed to a kinslayer… something just felt all too convenient and wrong to Hina. She hadn't known the crowned heir of the Clan very well, had only spotted him a handful of times and peripherally worked with him once... But someone younger than her? Murdering everyone in one night without any notice or backlash? No matter how skilled or touted as a genius of the highest caliber, it just wasn't possible. Wasn't human.

(_but_, a soft and terrified part of her murmured, _if he were to pick off some of the police force members over a spread of months and the other clanspeople who had lived outside of the district... posing it all as unrelated or incident or even suicide... a sickening picture began to form in her mind that made everything seem that much more doable and horrifying because just what kind of little monster had been living with them?_

_...what kind of monster had been spared along with the rest of the children, despite being the only one that was academy aged...?_)

* * *

Etsuko glanced into the private nursery where about sixty percent of the Uchiha orphans were currently being held, all below the age of three and about thirteen of them total. The other ten, a mix of four-and-five-year-olds, were in another set of connected rooms across the hall. In all honesty, this was supposed to be the wing of overflow rooms for injured shinobi brought in from skirmishes gone wrong, but it was the best that could be done with the sudden influx of traumatized pediatric patients.

It was hard to wrap one's head around the idea of a whole Clan — _one of the Noble Four even!_ — that numbered in the hundreds being reduced to a mere fraction of that amount. Only twenty-seven left in the whole wide world, if one was to discount the kinslayer, and all but a handful too young for entry-level schooling.

It boggled the mind.

But, then, it wasn't her job to parse through the hows and whys and whats. She just needed to be the night watch and be immediately on hand when one or more of the comatose children finally broke free of the genjutsu that blanketed them all heavily. It had already been two days and some change, and it really didn't seem to be weakening anytime soon…

_(Etsuko had heard of whispers and grumblings about the kekkai genkai of the Uchiha clan, of quiet and mutinous mutterings against them, of how those eyes could even weave a genjutsu so powerful it could control a —)_

There's a noise, in the stillness of the ward, and the medic-nin freezes in place, ears almost twitching: a gasp, a stifled sob, shaking breaths… She feels distinctly uncomfortable in the way those who have done wrong _(and know it)_ experience.

It's a bit hard to criticize the very family a grown man is weeping over.

Dithering in place, trying to decide if she should just pretend she heard nothing or make herself known or just maybe let the ground swallow her up, but eventually the sounds stopped.

Etsuko still felt like a terrible person, the children were still effectively dead-to-the-world, and there was still several hours before the night shift and the day shift switched over… Just perfect.

* * *

**A/N: A mild crossover with "Dreaming of Sunshine", just a what-if idea that spawned when talking about how Itachi should have been able to bargain not only for his brother's life, but that of all below Academy-aged children at the very least too. I have lots of ideas and thoughts about this and just want to get the ball rolling for my writing habits again, since I've fallen out of practice thanks to my mental state and struggling to finish schooling.**

**Maybe this and forcing myself to at least finish the little snippets that are just sitting in my Doc Manager will encourage me to get back into the habit of writing once more! ^ ^**

**Expect fluffy family drama, hurt/comfort themes, and plenty of (urgh) inter-clan politics.**


	2. Underneath the Underneath

Teyaki Uchiha stared off into the middle distance, expression solemn. Despite the perfectly temperate weather outside, with shinobi and birds alike flying by his hospital window, the small room retained a gloomy air about it. He was now a widower, as of two days ago. He was now also the Clan Head, despite being a civilian.

And honestly? It was all too soon, all too unexpected a responsibility. As far as chain of command went in the Clan, Teyaki would have never been the Head unless, like the situation was now, _literally all of the other canadates had been killed off_. Even now, it was only his age that allowed him to retain this position, Akari a close second with her Shigaran eyes.

Still, it was his responsibility to be the guiding hand and keep everything tied down until Akari was suitably prepared and asked to take the reins of the Clan leadership or Hina reached Jonin… Which Teyaki had a feeling wouldn't be happening for a long time, if at all.

The former simply because Akari would have her hands full keeping track of the familiar day-to-day responsibilties (but that was just a front, the real reason was that Teyaki had seen how she had trembled like a leaf in the wind when the young woman returned from the "meeting"… Those rotten pack of vultures, utterly disgusting). The later was through no fault of Hina own, as the middle Akado sister had a target on her back now. A target that wouldn't go away anytime soon, not after the stunt the two Akado sisters had pulled. As such, the role would be passed over to young Sasuke once he reached said rank of Jonin; the public face of the Uchiha, even if the boy would turn to his older cousins for guidance.

Teyaki planned to teach Akari all he knew, about wagashi (senbei specifically, of course) and expected duties of a Clan head (after he figured it out for the most part himself first). He hoped that Akari could pass on this knowledge later to the lad once he grew up a little more first… Something Teyaki might not live to see; life expectancies were hard to predict in this time and age.

In any case, he strongly hoped the loving guidance of the Akado sisters would help sort Sasuke out and promote a healthy growing enviroment for the newly orphaned Uchiha children.

Akado… Teyaki supposed he shouldn't distinguish the girls as such anymore, at least for posterity's sake, but habits were hard to break after nearly twenty years. The girls were always considered one of the clan, _family is family is family_, but they had been set apart the moment their mother coupled with their father… It would have been so much easier if Mitsune had just married that man, that no-clan eternal genin would have been smoothly absorbed into the Clan and all this headache wouldn't exist. No confusion where surnames were concerned. But, here they were.

"Uncle," Akari murmured, gathering Teyaki's wandering thoughts with a blink and refocusing eyes. Her tone was subdued and she was still not quite able to look him in the eye. He grimanced to himself, clearly he would have to have a long talk with her concerning the survivor's guilt she clearly felt… Akari swallowed hard several times to gather the words need before continuing, "I have been informed that the Compound is now considered… all clear, and that any further undertaking in securing or sealing property is our responsibilty."

"I see," the older man sighed wearily, his wizened face sagging in grief. All he could think of was his wife. Did Uruchi suffer…? He wondered morosely if it would be too much to ask of monsters to be merciful in their murders. To think that Itachi… The preteen had been the gentlest boy Teyaki had ever met, always so placid and sweet-natured… What had those red eyes seen and remembered to drive him to this state? What price had he paid for that powerful dojutsu?

"And I don't suppose they mentioned the state of… of the deceased?" His throat was dry, no amount of swallowing or clearing it could remove the dread. The fearful wonder if all with the Eyes were doomed with the threat of madness. Itachi hadn't been the first to snap in such a self-distructive and explosive way, in the years Teyaki had been alive, just the first to aim it at the Clan (at the people he loved, instead of those he hated…).

Akari's chin wobbled slightly, expression rather bleak and tearful. "All the bodies were c-cataloged and burned… The eyes of every last Uchiha found had been slashed and unrecoverable." The young woman's voice was faint and even, as emotional distanced in tone as a person could get. Her lower lip's trembling worsened before being bitten in a troubled manner. "They… didn't mention when the service would be held, just said to come down to the morgue at the earliest convience to… to help identify some of the deceased. The civilian ones. Um, all the shinobi, police nin, and the… the Academy-aged… were already identified, apparently…"

"Makes sense, they would already be registered under the Village's military workforce, with photo ID's and serial numbers. They would just need to match the face to the name," Teyaki explained grimly. "Us civilians on the other hand… generally we have a birth certificate and maybe a mariage one. No pictures… Family and friends were relied on to identify the body if officials couldn't."

"…oh…" Akari's voice was small, and the wretched look in her doe-eyes made her look young. She wetted her lips before asking hoarsely, "What should I say if I don't —" the young woman tried to swallow a sob, but was only half successfully, the thickness in her voice made the rest of the question trail out wetly, "— recognize their face…?"

The elderly shop-owner closed his eyes with a grimace, unwilling to say how he wondered the same directly. Hoarsely, he murmured, "Have them wheel me down to the morgue then, I'm certain I can figure out the rest… A lot of our clansmen I grew up with, and many others visited the Senbei…"

"But, Uncle, what if you don't either? We can't… We can't just leave them unknown!" Pale hands trembled in her lap, and even clasping them tightly didn't stop the shaking. Tears stained the lavender dress in damp spots.

His heart broke for her, his young "niece", and his eyes swam uncomfortably for several long seconds, vision bluring before slowly clearing. This, at least, could be easily answered, while many of the unsaid and far more emotionally-insidious ones would not (_whywhywhywhywhy_).

"Records," he croaked before coughing to fix the hoarseness. Teyaki continued when Akari turned her head in his direction, her tear-filled gaze uncomprehending, "The Police Force had meticulous records on all Clan members: their names, where they lived, occupations, tithes given to the Clan, and much more I'm sure…"

"But pictures…"

"What family does not keep pictures in their own homes?" Teyaki countered quietly.

Akari remained silent, those particular fears pacified, but her distress from them not. There was the sound of a child crying somewhere outside the room in the hospital, and long uncomfortable beat passed.

While not unusual to hear in the building, all kinds of sounds and noises, the crying was too close. And distressed wailing and gasping and choking sounded far too near and young. Pleading for comfort without words. Too close. One room over.

A long uncomfortable beat had passed before Akari bolted out of her chair to the room of the elder Uchiha children, as the sound of more children crying picked up in concert. Teyaki remained on the bed, tense and feeling helpless.

Damn him and his bum leg.

* * *

Hina didn't know what she was expecting, exactly, but walking into the compound two days (almost three nights) after the Massacre and seeing it so…empty, really drove home the point that everyone above the age of eight (excluding Big Sister Akari, Uncle Teyaki, and herself) was dead.

The finality of it, the completely remorseless truth of it all, shook her deeply; and the noirette had to take a long several minutes to compose herself before she could trudge forward once more. _Check store and house attached first, before getting fretting over the rest_, Hina told herself firmly._ You don't know what the inside looks like yet, and it's not like you haven't seen worse before, so no losing your head_…!

Hina ignored the little voice in her head that whispered traitorously that "before" hadn't been her family.

She didn't have much time, only a handful of hours before all of the children awoke. The genjitsu releasing its hold in the order of the victim it was cast on — _presumably exactly seventy-two hours late_r. Sasuke would be the last one; he would wake sometime in the late evening, presumably an hour or two before midnight, so Hina had until then to discern the state of the compound before rushing back to the hospital.

Alone.

Not that there was any one else that could go with her, Akari and the wheelchair-bound Teyaki had the onerous task of trying to keep at least some semblance of calm with the youngest children crying for mothers and fathers as well as the older ones asking more pointed questions (and also wanting to know where their parents were). From what Hina could see, there was an astounding lack of nightmare-induced trauma, or any recollection of That Night. Which, might have merely been a blessing in disguise, but really made Hina's Shinobi Senses twinge in suspicion.

It was obvious a powerful one was used to sustain a three day coma, even if it was only a subcategory or bastardization, and Uchiha were renown throughout the nations for their nigh-inescapable visual genjitsus from their famous Sharingan Eyes. _Visual_._ Genjitsus_. The children had to have seen _something_ to anchor it for that long. It didn't necessarily have to be nightmarish, some genjitsus could be purposely made pleasant to make the victim willfully prolong them (_like a dream you never want to wake up from and would sleep forever to keep it if you could..._) where with the more, ah, unpleasant ones only made you want to end them instantly, escape. The point was, Hina just couldn't imagine a kin-slayer taking pity on some children and giving them sweet dreams while he _brutally murdered_ all they cared for and loved.

It didn't sit right for her, a disconnect.

And just why did he spare these select few, when all that spared them was being below the age of six (excluding Sasuke of course...)? What could possibly be the point?

Not to mention, it was a complete anti-thesis to Itachi Uchiha's known persona. Up until the past few months, literally the whole Clan and anyone who had heard of the prodigy had nothing but good things to say about him. Most notably his professionalism, politeness, and personality... and none of it screamed "killer" or "unstable". It's not like the Uchiha were strangers to madness; it had cropped up many a time before and precautions had been fine tuned to detect such risks. It _was_ possible results could be faked but... Hina just couldn't make sense of it. Why now? If it was power he was looking to achieve, wouldn't he pursue it on the battlefield with the security of Konoha and the Clan behind him? They had all been raised and taught that a ninja was their strongest when they had others to stand behind them. They lived in the Village known for it's teamwork, the strongest in all the Elemental Nations because of this belief...

Something was missing, and it all had to have started within the last several months. Hina planned to get to the bottom of it, one way or the other, for both her Clan to have peace and to prevent another tragedy from happening again. Out of all of them, Sasuke would be the biggest flight risk.

"Ah." Hina murmured.

She was there.

* * *

**A/N: So.**

**Sorry for the long wait, I just recently moved to my new apartment and eased into working at my new job over ten hours away from my closest family member. Not to mention, finally met my boyfriend of nearly two years and his family overseas to prove that I am real and do exist and not a 40-year-old pervert living in a basement. Or a bunch of Italian(? For some reason?) men wanting to steal money and/or organs...**

**His older sister has a particularly vivid imagination of me being a catfish, but I'm cute _and real_ so ha, I win.**

**Now to convince _my family_ when he visits in spring...**

**Ah, long distances relationships. Whoo.**


End file.
